


I'll Be Watching You

by floofman



Series: Kinktober 2019 [4]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Edgeplay, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Torture, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Toys, Smut, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 14:29:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21017300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floofman/pseuds/floofman
Summary: Phil leaves Clint for a meeting, with only sex toys to keep him company. But he still wants to play with him.





	I'll Be Watching You

The pulsing in his ass hummed through the rest of his sweat-drenched body, from his red, leaking cock to his clamped, abused nipples. Each little buzz nudged at his prostate, and God, he was so fucking close. He couldn’t last any longer, Clint thought with a shiver, but he couldn’t come like this. If Phil would just. . . “Please,” he felt himself gasp out. 

Phil knelt down to his field of vision, but honestly, that kind smile was no less taunting than his pressed slacks. Phil raised his hand and cupped Clint’s cheek, his thumb brushing over the bitten-raw lips, and Clint actually whined. “Look at you,” Phil exhaled, the only sign that he was even remotely affected by the mess he made of Clint. “So beautiful. So obedient.”

Clint couldn’t believe this. His aching cock and prolonged arousal clouded his train of thought, and all he wanted was for that big, cool hand to grab. . .

Phil patted Clint’s face -- which felt more like a slap and Clint definitely did not need to be outed as a masochist right now -- and withdrew his hand. And with it, Clint’s hope of relief. 

Those tender eyes stayed trained on his panting form, and Clint felt himself heating up. Shame curled deep in his gut, but it only drove him that much closer to the edge. His orgasm felt within reach -- it really was in Phil’s reach -- and all these small touches and looks were fucking killing him. “Phil, you gotta. . .”

“What do I need to do, Clint?” He was always so patient with Clint’s fucked-up-ness. Always so kind, so understanding. 

“Please,” His rim twitched around the vibrator as his breath hitched, a tear rolling down his face. 

Shaking his head like he knew something Clint didn’t, Phil straightened up. Clint tilted his face up, but the fluorescent lights and his watery eyes did not cooperate, and all he saw was Phil’s silhouette. A soft hand combed through his hair: a comfort.

“I have a meeting to go to now,” Phil whispered. 

No. He fucking wouldn’t. Couldn’t! Could he? Clint desperately needed him right now, if not to help, then to just be there. “Phil, no, please,” Clint babbled, collapsing forward onto Phil’s shiny shoes.”I need you, you can’t just fucking leave. You can’t. Fuck!” His ass was in the air and the new angle shifted the vibrator further onto his prostate. The gentle hum became an aggressive pulse and he arched his back at the new sensation. The back of his legs felt a cool breeze from the air conditioning. He distantly became aware of the pool of drool pouring out of his loose lips. Maybe if he got all his spit on Phil’s shoes, he would stay? 

“You’ll be fine,” the warm voice assured and Clint definitely did not cry out. He held out the remote for the vibrator, wiggling it a little. “This’ll keep you company when I’m gone.”

“Phil, I’m begging you,” Clint sobbed. 

A shadow of concern passed over his face. “Color?”

That caught him off guard. Clint stared at the carpet. Could he do this? Phil seemed to believe so. And, fuck, his ass would feel weird for a long time when this was all over, and his dick was hurting so fucking much already, standing at attention for as long as it had been. But could he do this? 

Swallowing thickly and with an admittedly embarrassing voice break, Clint shakily answered. “Green.”

“You sure?” Fuck, Phil wasn’t letting him off easy. 

He bowed his head to avoid the man’s disquieted gaze. “Yeah.”

Satisfied, Phil immediately picked back up on the scene. “Good. I expect you to keep your hands to yourself.” Clint could hear the small smile. “You can rub your nipples if you want.”

“Fuck!” The vibrations in his ass suddenly picked up in intensity. Clint’s cock jerked forward, the angry head dripping some more. His knees wobbled before giving out, and Clint was splayed on his chest, legs split and toes curled. He couldn’t even articulate the coiled feeling building in his gut. The heat stained his sticky skin, and fuck, he could barely breathe, he was so close. His prostate was being hammered every goddamn second. His left knee spazzed. He was so fucking close, and to push himself over the edge, Clint rolled onto his side and trailed his fingers across the nipple clamps and the red skin around them. Clint was so absorbed in his arousal he did not register Phil’s exit, nor the fact that Phil pocketed the remote. He could feel it, just a second longer--

The vibrator turned down to its first setting. Clint screamed. A shudder racked through his body and his overheated body realized the chill of the room in an instant. His cock was still rock hard, his nipples bullied beyond what they could take, and his asshole was beginning to get sore. 

Clint moaned in frustration. His arousal drastically plummeted with the vibrator’s intensity, and he felt able to focus on his surroundings with more clarity. Rolling onto his back, he stared at the blinding fluorescent lights in the ceiling and noticed Phil’s absence. He was alone, no one here to tell him off. His erection was becoming painful and annoying; if he jerked it off, he could chalk up his orgasm to the toys and Phil would be none the wiser.

Clint propped his head up, and with his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth, he wrapped his hand around his weeping cock. The direct stimulation had him moaning unabashedly, his head falling back and his hips moving up. Fuck, that felt good. He rubbed his thumb up and down the vein and he choked out a guttural wail. 

The vibrator then snapped back to life. Clint jerked his hand off his dick like it burned, his eyes wide. Phil must’ve known he touched himself, he always does. Clint wouldn’t put it past him having a teddy cam stashed in his office. Clint threw his arm over his eyes, shielding himself from the harsh white light and realized his doom. Phil would be so pissed; Clint said he could make it without touching himself and he did. Shame burned Clint’s guts from the inside. Even in his own sex-crazed state, he couldn’t fucking listen to his handler. His Phil. Clint rolled onto his side and curled into a ball. He hoped Phil would give him a day or two to recover from this; Phil’s punishments were a lot to take on and edge play always took its toll on Clint. But even if Phil did want to punish him as soon as he got out of his dumb meeting, Clint probably deserved it. 

As if Phil was hearing his self-deprecating thoughts, the vibrator started back up onto a more attention-grabbing pace. Clint's ass dug into the rough carpet, fixing the toy as deep within him as it could. His cock twitched with interest and his arousal picking up once more. He rolled his hips in time with the pulses, pressing down on the nipple clamps. Clint was getting exhausted, but there was no more he could do than chase his own orgasm and whine the whole way there. The vibrator picked up a notch. Yes, fuck yes. Clint’s breathing came out uneven. His vision swam. The vibrator sped up. Damn, Clint was close again, the cliff’s side in view once more. He begged Phil to let him go, let him release. He couldn’t hold it any longer; if he didn’t orgasm this time, Clint swore his dick would fall off.

But the vibrator kept buzzing at its punishing rhythm. Clint could feel his balls tighten in preparation. He was so fucking close. He clamped down on the humming toy, driving it as deep as possible. Just a little more. His fingers deftly twisted the clamps over his chaffed nipples. Almost there. . .

At last, the vibrator switched to its final setting and Clint howled. Come splashed over his chest in sweet relief. He could cry from how fucking good it was; he hadn’t had an orgasm this consuming since Phil tied him up. He shuddered as his cock spewed all the come it had accumulated to the last weak drops. 

His body collapsed, muscles lax, and Clint became aware of how sore he was. Boneless on the ground--finally--Clint exhaled deeply. The cooling come on his torso would dry and itch later, but who the fuck cared. He did reach up, however, and snapped off the nipple clamps, letting out a low whistle at the near-purple skin. So no nipple play in the near future, he noted. 

That’s when Clint noticed the still-buzzing vibrator in his ass. It was becoming uncomfortable and sooner would border on painful, and not the sexy kind. He wasn’t sure if Phil would let him take it out himself, but he also couldn’t keep it in there until Phil got out. Who knew what the meeting was about, or how long he was even gone for. 

Weighing his options, Clint decided that Phil always liked it when he was honest and asked permission first. On the hope that Phil had some form of surveillance in his office and kept tabs on it often, Clint nervously asked the chilly room: “Can I take it out?”

Nothing happened.

Clint felt stupid, to say the least, but sat up anyway. The quick movement caused the vibrator to bump his prostate and he cried out at the overstimulation. “Phil, please.”

The vibrator switched off the second the words came out of his mouth. Clint sighed, blissed-out. He dropped back onto the now-stained carpet. He could get used to this, he mused.

**Author's Note:**

> Day four completed on the 13th. We're getting there.


End file.
